Stains of You
by never-believer
Summary: Set when Iason was making plans to recapture Riki; Raoul has removed Iason's memories of Riki on Jupiter's orders, but rather than simply reverting to his former state Iason is confused to find himself a changed man, with no recollection of how or why this change occurred. Story follows Iason's attempts at self-exploration and how the other characters deal with it :)
1. Something Missing

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING

Rated M to be safe

Pairings: Iason/Katze

A/N: Long time reader, first time writer, blah, blah, blah; I would love reviews/constructive criticisms and please for the love of Jupiter if you see a grammar/spelling mistake TELL ME even if that's all you say ^_^ Picked the title by shuffling my iPod because I am literally that creative (song is Stains of You by Sopor Aeternus).

* * *

Iason settled back comfortably into the sofa and closed his eyes briefly. Today seemed like a blur; he only vaguely remembered the meetings he had attended, and recalled nothing from all the paperwork he had gone through, although he did remember doing it. He sighed heavily. He'd been feeling off ever since that illness…

Raoul had said that it was a simple virus, same as the ones he had experienced before. Every elite occasionally became ill; it was the way their bodies cleaned out any built up impurities or toxins and kept them running in top condition. But everything surrounding his illness was fuzzy: he didn't remember becoming ill or being ill; in fact, when prompted, he was unable to recall the last thing he had been doing before waking up in Raoul's medical room.

Raoul had seemed a little off as he bustled around checking all sorts of readings and measures and fussed over Iason like a mother hen; he was probably worried as elites rarely become ill enough to fall unconscious for three days. But still, the other man had assured him that the virus was nothing to worry about, now that he was well (though in Iason's opinion, Raoul looked like the one who needed reassuring).

All in all, Iason was willing to put the whole episode behind him, but unfortunately he was still feeling rather under the weather, with frequent headaches and an all pervasive fatigue. He found that he was running a slight fever almost every evening. Raoul chalked it down to overwork and told him to take things slower. But Iason wasn't going to let anything get in the way of his service to Jupiter.

Therefore, to make things easier on himself, he had called Katze back from his usual hideout and requested that he move back into the penthouse for a while. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Iason's current furniture, Cal, but Iason had felt a strong desire to have Katze's familiar face around, and he had never denied his own whims before, so he certainly wasn't going to start trying now when he was feeling oddly lost and vulnerable.

He had no idea why he was feeling this way, like something important was missing from his life. Logically, he supposed he could blame the illness for knocking him off kilter, but the nagging feeling that something fundamental was out of place persisted. Having Katze around helped quite a bit, so much, in fact, that it made Iason uneasy. Since when did he have such intense feelings, not about Katze specifically, but at all? When did the occasional whim to run an ungloved hand through his former furniture's hair, or caress his face to admire both its natural beauty and the scar he had put there, turn into an almost overwhelming, and overwhelmingly confusing, desire to drag him into the master bedroom and ravish him?

He knew such things were strictly forbidden, and he'd had no interest in them before. Even the perfectly legal pet shows had held very little appeal for him, and he simply assumed that he was blessed with freedom from the baser urges that still remained in the otherwise perfectly designed brains of the elites. All he had ever wanted to do was the work he was built for: running the political field and supervising the economy, upholding Jupiter's order above all else.

So why was he now tempted to throw precedent out the window and have his way with his _furniture_? Why had his sexuality awakened _now _of all times? Was it the illness? Had it messed with his brain functions? But no, if it had Raoul would surely have noticed and found some way to put it right. Perhaps there was some pill he could take to control this problem, but he was far too embarrassed to approach Raoul with the subject.

Besides, his willpower was not so depleted that he was really in danger of sexually assaulting furniture in accordance with his animalistic urges. He was a Blondie after all: inhumanly strong, both physically and mentally. All he had to do was refuse to host these inappropriate thoughts, and the problem would go away.

'_Unfortunately,_' Iason thought to himself, sitting up on the sofa as his eyes locked on Katze, who was bringing him a glass of his favorite wine, '_that is proving far more easily said than done._' Apparently oblivious to the internal turmoil of his former (and current, really, just in a less direct way) master, Katze approached him with the same professionally blank face as always as he handed over Iason's drink.

"Thank you, Katze," Iason stated perfunctorily, his voice as cool and disinterested as ever. Katze gave a slight bow in the same semi-automatic, unthinking manner, before turning to go. "Katze," Iason called, immediately cursing his apparently uncontrollable whims as Katze's intense golden eyes met his cool blue ones. He swallowed thickly. "Sit," he said, managing to keep his voice steady as he gestured at the space beside him on the couch.

Katze obeyed silently, giving nothing more than a raised eyebrow to convey how he might have felt about his master's request. Now that Iason thought about it, Katze too had been acting a bit off. The two of them, Katze and Raoul, had both been acting strangely distant and shifty whenever Iason attempted to engage them.

And the more he pondered, the more wrong things felt. Not just Katze and Raoul… The other Blondies had also been giving him strange looks, and whenever he spoke with any of them Iason always got the feeling that they were digging to check for something. The rest of the elites too... It seemed that everyone Iason had been remotely close to before his illness was treating him differently, curiously, as if waiting to see if something would happen.

Undoubtedly, the peculiar treatment he had been receiving was what was making him feel on edge, and it was probably contributing to the odd sense he had of something being not-quite-right. But what was the cause behind it? His illness? This new and far more acceptable motive in mind, Iason turned to Katze, who had seated himself quietly beside Iason and was waiting, like the perfectly behaved furniture he had once been, to carry out whatever it was that his master wished.

Iason swirled the wine in his glass gently before taking a graceful sip. Turning toward Katze with an almost forced casual air, he observed in a consciously offhanded manner, "It seems I have become the focus of much undue attention, recently." He saw Katze twitch almost imperceptibly in his peripheral vision, but the man only replied calmly, "Is that so? I suppose your sudden and unexpectedly severe illness must have been rather disconcerting; the worst most elites have ever been exposed to is a high fever."

Katze pointed this out in his usual logical and detached manner, but Iason's sense that something was amiss was now stronger than ever. "Katze," Iason said seriously, leaning towards the other man on the couch, "Is there something you're not telling me?" Katze met his eyes, but seemed unable to speak. He looked torn, as though half of him desperately wanted to say something but the other half was just as desperately holding it back.

Iason had lost himself in those golden eyes, glittering with warring emotions that the rest of his face refused to express, and before he really knew what he was doing he was kissing his former furniture with all the pent up passion and sexual frustration that had been building up inside of him during this past, utterly bewildering week.

He met no initial resistance, and he soon had Katze breathless and pinned beneath him on the sofa. After a few more searing kisses, planted along his neck and jaw as much as his lips, Katze appeared to suddenly come to his senses and pressed both of his hands against Iason's chest, not forcefully, but firmly enough to give him pause.

"What is it?" Iason asked in his usual collected and even somewhat haughty voice, though he was well aware that it was Katze who should be demanding to know what in Jupiter's name Iason thought he was doing, rather than himself questioning why Katze wanted him to stop.

"I…" Katze licked his lips nervously, "We shouldn't be doing this." The obvious answer. Katze was looking anywhere but at Iason, eyes flitting back and forth and roaming over the objects in Eos' most luxurious penthouse suite.

Well, there was no denying the truth of that statement. They absolutely should not be doing anything of this sort. And yet the idea of copulating with the man beneath him, a slum mongrel and his castrated, former furniture to boot, wasn't nearly as repulsive as it should have been. In fact, Iason was finding it downright enticing.

Suddenly gripped by a reckless impulse, Iason leant down so that his lips just barely grazed Katze's ear. "And why not?" he whispered, purposefully steeping his voice in arrogant tones. There was something bigger going on here than an over-privileged Blondie indulging his whims, but as Iason hadn't yet figured out for himself exactly what that was, there was no reason to encourage Katze to form his own suspicions.

'_Better to let him think this a simple matter of shallow Blondie pride, until I have an actual set of reasoning to provide,_' Iason determined. He felt Katze shiver beneath him at his words, so he deduced that he was making headway and decided to continue in the same vein.

"What I do in my private life is my own business," Iason continued softly, noting in the back of his mind the odd familiarity of the words. He'd contemplate that more later, but for now… "And if I wish to enjoy the services of my furniture, on my own time and in my own home, who has the right to deny me?" Sensing the name that would likely be thrown out at this juncture, he preemptively added, "It is little concern of Jupiter's how I spend my free time, as long as my work does not suffer."

The expression on Katze's face seemed to say pityingly, _you don't know how wrong you are_… But Katze himself said nothing. He closed his eyes as Iason started up his ministrations again, at a much more leisurely pace this time, and when he opened them again all the hesitation was gone, replaced entirely by a look of full and complete devotion.

For Iason, the look was as startling as it was arousing. Sure, Katze had served him faithfully for all of these years, his fidelity evident and strong enough for Iason to trust him completely. But he never would have guessed that the depth of his loyalty and admiration extended so far, into what seemed to be genuine feelings. _Love_. Iason pushed the word angrily out of his mind. It stirred within him a well of emotion that shouldn't even exist, and made him feel as though he were at the threshold of understanding the uneasiness that had been plaguing him, but he just couldn't cross over it.

His frustration translated to impatience as he abruptly pulled Katze up and practically dragged him into his bedroom. He couldn't have said exactly why, but he felt that what he was about to do with Katze would only bring him closer to understanding what was going on, and that, (in addition to his more conspicuous motivations) was why he wasn't going to hold back or hesitate any longer.

* * *

A/N: So yeah, I'm probs going to skip over most sex scenes because I can't write my pervy thoughts without embarrassing myself (rather ironic, considering the nature of the work that I'm stealing *ahem* _borrowing_ from). But anyway I'll try to force myself to write more the next time Mr. Muse punches me in the face~


	2. Something Different

Disclaimer: I still own nothing

Rating: T to be safe I guess

A/N: Thank you guest who reviewed! :D (Unfortunately I don't think it's possible to reply to guest reviews so I'll just address your question here: yes I have read some of their fics and I loved them! They seem to have disappeared though; the whole site I was reading them on is gone now for some reason... And I actually thought he was a real character, because I haven't finished reading the novels yet ." So yes, that's where I got it from, but I went back and took it out since it turns out he wasn't and I didn't get permission to use him; thanks for telling me, by the way, I would have felt really bad if they had somehow come across it and seen their character stolen. I tend to be strongly influenced by certain things I read, so my writing can be painfully unoriginal at times *sighs* I really don't mean any harm though, and I certainly don't want to take credit for anyone else's ideas or work! I just like to play around with the great creations I come across to squeeze as much vicarious emotion and philosophical insight out of them as possible :P).

I really started writing this story on a whim, so I only have a vague plan for it; if anyone wants to share suggestions I'd love to hear them! (and I'd credit you for your ideas, of course ^_^)

* * *

Katze stood on the balcony of Raoul's apartment, leaning over the railing with a cigarette in hand. He stared absently out over the city without really seeing it. Exhaling sharply, he straightened up as he heard movement and voices inside. Raoul had returned.

Katze still wasn't really sure why Raoul had let him in on what was going on. He knew that the second in command among the Blondies was well aware of his origins, as well as his current status. The fact that he was even being treated as capable of understanding what was going on was surprising; furniture and slum mongrels in general were typically treated as though they had no conception of the world beyond their duties as a household appliance (in the case of the former), or simply satisfying their basic, day-to-day urges (in the case of the latter).

He supposed it would have been problematic if he had been left in the dark and wound up asking Iason something about Riki, clueing the man in on the fact that his mind had been tampered with. Although, from what Katze had observed, it seemed that Iason had already noticed something amiss. He seemed more pensive and concerned than usual, and then of course, there was the other night…

When Raoul had first called Katze in and informed him that he had wiped all of Iason's memories of Riki, Katze had been dumbfounded. Iason had been so confident, so sure of his position and his rights that Katze had truly believed the man would get away with having a mongrel pet, and keeping it for as long as he liked. Katze's furniture registration was still active, after all, and no one even seemed to know about that. Then again, they didn't know what he had done to merit his current position either; if they had he suspected they would have insisted upon his execution long ago.

Iason had been his savior in more ways than one. Choosing him as his furniture in the first place (although that was certainly a mixed blessing), giving him enough freedom to explore his potential while in his service, and then sparing him after he had so flagrantly abused that kindness, and then, beyond even that, engineering his ascent in the black market, making him the Tanagura representative to Guardian… The man had backed him in all of his current ventures, and even if said ventures were all of his own choosing and ultimately to his benefit, Katze still felt a deep gratitude toward him for that support.

He had held no illusions about his place in Iason's life, either. If Iason so chose, he could easily cast him aside, either replacing him with other underlings or managing the affairs he presently delegated to Katze for himself. But this knowledge only served to deepen his gratitude toward Iason, for choosing him and keeping him around despite his previous transgressions and ultimate insignificance.

However, his certainty of his place in Iason's life had recently been shaken by all of the events surrounding the memory wipe. After recovering from the shock of what he had heard, Katze had grown furious at the seeming injustice committed against the incredible man who had done so much for him. What was the harm in having Riki around anyway? Whom did it hurt? It was obvious that Iason had feelings for Riki, feelings he didn't understand or know how to properly deal with, but wouldn't it have been better for him to work through them, to analyze and organize them with that supposedly perfect brain of his, rather than just erasing them?

And the other night only proved that the feelings had not been erased. Iason Mink was a different man now, and merely veiling the cause of his change wasn't going to make him revert back to his previous closed, cold self. Riki had changed him. Loving Riki had changed him. If that was apparent to Katze, how could other Blondies like Raoul, and especially Jupiter herself, be so blind to it? The Iason from before never would have done what he did with Katze the other night, proven by the fact that it had never happened before. If Iason had wanted to take him at any point in the past, Katze certainly wouldn't have complained.

There had been moments too, both when he had been serving as his furniture and afterward when he was given the role of a sort of all-purpose personal assistant, when Iason would look at him in _that_ way, but he had always restrained himself, and Katze would force himself to brush it off as wishful thinking. But Riki had broken that restraint, unlocking the very human creature within the Blondie. For that, Katze couldn't help but admire him, even though it often seemed that the man himself had no idea what he was actually doing. The two of them, held so far apart by society, didn't know how to bridge the gap and communicate with each other.

And that, Katze was sure, was the cause of all of their problems (and in a way, paradoxically, perhaps the source of their attraction). Riki's resistance and rebellious attitude, Iason's inability to cope with feelings he shouldn't have and his frustration at not being able to enjoy the kind of relationship he wanted with Riki, and the resulting, very public, scandals… Katze had just gotten to experience something he'd hardly dared dream of with Iason, but he couldn't bring himself to be happy about it, knowing the messy state of affairs out of which it had been born.

He couldn't quite crush a tiny hope, though, that perhaps the new Iason was capable of caring about him, maybe even wanted to be closer to him. He tried to stow this in the back of his mind for the time being. What was more important now was making sure Iason was well. Iason had seemed unusually exhausted after they had finished and had fallen asleep running a moderate fever. And then the next morning he had suffered from a headache that had apparently been severe enough to keep him in the penthouse all day.

His brain clearly wasn't pleased about being meddled with. Incidentally, that was the subject he was waiting to discuss with Raoul, who, knowing that Iason had Katze living with him again, was constantly seeking updates on his friend's condition. Katze winced to himself, suddenly realizing that Raoul was going to be asking how Iason had been and what he had been up to as per usual, but that information now included things that Katze was entirely uncomfortable sharing, especially with a Blondie he barely knew or trusted.

It wasn't anything about Raoul in particular; in fact, it was _because_ Raoul could be expected to react like any other elite that Katze was nervous. During their last conversation, when Katze had voiced his objections to what had been done, admittedly losing his temper a bit, Raoul had backhanded him harshly and given him a steely reminder that regardless of whatever special treatment Iason had seen fit to give him, he was still a worthless piece of used furniture who had no business even having opinions.

Abruptly noticing that his cigarette had gone out, Katze squeezed the remainder in his fist as he turned around and walked back inside. He would just focus on Iason's medical condition; Iason's persistent symptoms would hopefully concern Raoul enough to distract him and keep him from probing further.

* * *

A/N: I feel like I do way too much thinking and summary and stuff and not nearly enough plot and dialogue... Hopefully things'll pick up next chapter. Anyway thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Something Unique

A/N: So after a few light slaps that led nowhere Mr. Muse finally lost his temper with me and cut me a clean one across the jaw while I was eating a pint of Soy Dream in the middle of the night. The following is his fault entirely. (Read: I DO NOT OWN)

* * *

Raoul didn't bother to look up as he heard the balcony door slide open. His furniture had already informed him that Katze was waiting for him so he wasn't surprised that the chain smoker had stepped outside for a cigarette. He heard the door slide closed again and listened to the man's footsteps as he walked into his field of vision.

He couldn't quite decide what he thought about Katze. In hindsight, he could be interpreted as a sort of early warning sign of Iason's eccentricities and willingness to bend the rules. He had yet to be informed of the specifics surrounding Katze's dismissal from his role as Iason's furniture; all Iason had deigned to tell him and the rest of the Blondies was that he had been snooping, sticking his nose in places it didn't belong and showing an inappropriate level of curiosity for functional furniture.

Raoul had been almost thankful for the offense, whatever it was, because he had felt that Iason was displaying a strange and inappropriate attachment to this particular furniture. While the five years he had served weren't more than the average, Iason had showed no indication of interest in looking for any new furniture, even near the end of that time.

In addition to that, whenever Raoul joined Iason for dinner or a friendly chat in his penthouse, he noticed all manner of oddities. For example, on more than a few occasions Iason greeted Raoul at the door himself, explaining that Katze was doing work at his terminal. Once, very early on in his service, after letting Raoul in Katze had simply gone back to the sofa and continued reading a book, ignoring both his master and his master's guest and appearing thoroughly unconcerned. And even more strangely, Iason had made absolutely no comment on it and simply struck up conversation with Raoul.

Furthermore, many times he had noticed a chessboard set up, clearly in the middle of a game. And as Raoul knew for a fact that he was the only one Iason ever invited over for non-diplomatic purposes, he was forced to conclude that, unless Iason was playing against himself, Katze was his opponent. _But what Blondie in his right mind spends his free time playing __**chess**__ with his __**furniture**__?_ It made no sense.

On top of all of this, even after he had committed an offense serious enough to merit his dismissal (and earn a nasty scar down the side of his face), Iason had opted to re-employ Katze as his personal assistant rather than dispose of him. What was so special about him? Iason had often boasted of his intelligence and unusual talents instead of replying to Raoul's queries during Katze's time of service as furniture, and afterwards continued to use the man's uncanny intellect and way with computers as his excuse for hiring him in his current role.

But the man couldn't possibly be smarter than the average elite, and definitely couldn't outsmart a Blondie. For a slum mongrel to even be considered in the same league as Jupiter's genetically perfected creations was preposterous.

'_And yet, I've invited him here of my own volition_,' Raoul mused as Katze took a seat on the sofa across from him. Having already had Katze over twice, first a week ago after Iason woke up, and again a few days ago to ensure the procedure hadn't caused any serious ill-effects, the furniture already knew to bring him strong coffee, black.

Raoul had called him in again for another discussion about Iason's condition. Although he was truly interested in and concerned about how his friend was doing, it was also true that he had other reasons for wanting to speak directly with the man Iason trusted more than any other. _What does Iason see in these mongrels…?_

Sitting up, Raoul cleared his head of these thoughts and focused on the matter at hand. Without bothering with formal greetings (he _was_ only dealing with furniture, after all, a fact which he couldn't seem to remind himself of enough) he began (in perhaps unnecessarily arrogant and patronizing tones), "So? How has he been? Any worrying behaviors or warnings of a questionable mental state? He has been keeping up with his work well enough, but he seems awfully distracted…"

He let his voice trail off as Katze shifted in his seat, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Perhaps he resented being addressed in such a manner? But seeing as Raoul had stooped to physically attacking him last time (they had both rather lost their tempers), this conversation was going comparatively well. In any case, the moment of awkwardness quickly passed as Katze too sat up and assumed a more professional air.

"He still seems abnormally fatigued and suffers from unusually frequent and severe headaches. He has continued running fevers in the evenings as well," Katze reported in a detached tone of voice. Raoul frowned in concern at this new information. "No signs of the symptoms abating any time soon, then?" he asked, almost to himself. Katze replied anyway, "Overall, I would say there has been improvement, but he's obviously not back at 100%."

Katze looked very much like he wanted to add something else, and by the way he seemed to clamp his jaw shut Raoul could guess that it had something to do with his disagreement over whether Iason's memory ought to have been modified at all. "It wasn't my decision, you know," Raoul said quietly, not entirely sure why he felt the need to justify himself to someone like Katze.

But it really wasn't. If he had felt that he had any choice in the matter, if he could have refused to be the one to do it, he would have done so in a heartbeat. But he was clearly the most qualified, perhaps the only one qualified enough to manage the feat of transferring Iason's memories of Riki into Jupiter's data banks. He didn't question what interest Jupiter had in analyzing the information, and he certainly wasn't going to make a show of obstinacy as that would likely only result in someone else being given the job, and he didn't trust any of his fellow elites to do it as carefully or as well as he could.

Thus his hand had been forced, and, whatever his personal feelings were, he had obeyed. Katze made eye contact with him. Ignoring the boldness of the gesture, Raoul could sense some level of understanding between them as gold met green. The other man seemed to at least get that Raoul had no malicious intentions toward the master for whom he cared so much.

Suddenly Katze's communicator went off. He glanced at it, appearing to have no intention of answering, until his eyes landed on the display and his expression immediately changed. "It's Iason," he informed Raoul in an impressively steady voice.

"Ignore it," Raoul said calmly, taking another sip of his wine. Katze merely raised his eyebrows, tilting his chin downward slightly while still gazing intently at Raoul, wordlessly repeating, '_It's __**Iason**_.'

Raoul merely arched his own eyebrows and casually replied, "Well, answer it then. It doesn't really concern me." He observed Katze as the man looked around the suite. "Where?" the other man asked him.

"Is where you are sitting unsuitable?" Raoul answered. Katze met his eyes again. "What if he realizes I'm at your place?"

Raoul only commented, "He'll only get more irritated the longer you make him wait." Katze exhaled heavily through his nose, likely as much out of nervousness as frustration, and then, seeming to gather up his courage, answered the call.

"What took you so long?" were the first words out of Iason's mouth. Katze gave a light sigh. "I was in the middle of a… conversation," he offered with only a slight hesitation. From his current position, Raoul couldn't see Iason's expression, but he could almost hear his beautiful friend's eyes narrowing suspiciously in his tone of voice as he posed his next question, "Are you at Raoul's?"

Raoul saw Katze wince in response and couldn't really blame him. Having to lie to Iason was a real bitch; well-neigh impossible, in fact. Raoul had been lucky, relatively speaking, in his recent dealings with the man. Jupiter had been the one to call him in before the memory altering procedure, and when he had woken up he had been too dazed to question what Raoul told him.

Now, however, despite his apparently persistent symptoms, his lie-detecting abilities seemed to be well on their way to recovery. It appeared Katze understood the utter futility of an outright lie to Iason in the current circumstances, so he answered resignedly, "Yes."

"May I inquire as to why?" Iason asked, his voice hardening and cooling, turning to ice. He was clearly displeased at the lack of detail in his subordinate's response. "Perhaps _he_ would be better suited to answer that?" Katze suggested hopefully. Iason must have given him some form of nonverbal consent, because a moment later he passed the communicator across the coffee table to Raoul, not bothering to conceal his relieved expression.

Raoul allowed himself to frown at the man across from him for only a moment before quickly schooling his features to neutrality and accepting the device. A moment later he was glad that his mask of calm indifference was firmly in place, because Iason's eyes, even when gazing at him from a communicator, seemed terrifyingly perceptive.

"Well, Raoul? I trust you overheard everything." The cold intensity of his scrutiny carried an emotional charge that startled Raoul. '_Is he __**jealous**__?_' he wondered incredulously. Surely he didn't think that Raoul was doing anything _untoward_ with his friend's property? The idea was completely ridiculous: even if Katze had belonged to Raoul there was no way he would have personally involved himself with the man in _that_ way; under no circumstances would he lower himself to actually having relations of that nature. Iason was the only one who had dared engage in such unprecedented sexual deviance, and the fact that he no longer remembered this only added to the list of reasons why it made no sense for him to be bizarrely possessive of Katze all of a sudden.

Thinking fast, Raoul went with the first plausible excuse that crossed his mind. "I've been considering updating the security system at the Lab," he explained, and it wasn't untrue. He hadn't mentioned it to Katze yet, as they had been preoccupied with more important issues, but, "Because you brag so much about his expertise in this area, I thought I might test out his famed intellectual abilities."

Katze jerked upward, staring at Raoul in surprise, his thoughts as obvious as if he'd spoken them aloud. '_He brags about me?_' Deciding to knock him down a peg, he added almost playfully, "Although I must say I believe you have been over-exaggerating."

He noted in his peripheral vision that Katze leveled an unimpressed look at him with lowered eyelids, the sarcastic '_Ha, ha,_' implicit. Raoul was rapidly becoming fascinated with Katze's mastery of body language and nonverbal communication, and he couldn't help but wonder how much of it was conscious.

"Is that so?" Iason replied, his tone softer but still cold, "I wouldn't think such a discussion would need to last all day." Raoul frowned in confusion. "It hasn't," he replied carefully, "I only just returned from my office a few minutes ago."

"...I see. Katze," he continued, a commanding note entering his voice. Not needing further prompting, Katze quickly got up and moved around the sofa to stand behind Raoul so that Iason could see him. "I have a few errands for you to run. Please return here immediately."

With a last cold but respectful nod to Raoul, Iason disconnected. The silence left in his wake extended for a few moments. "So where _have_ you been all day then?" Raoul ventured. Katze stiffened slightly, and made his face go blank; his poker face was now all the more intriguing since Raoul had just been exposed to the opposite end of the spectrum and seen how expressive the man could be.

"I went for a drive," he stated in a noticeably flat voice. The message in his change in tone was clear. '_Don't ask. It's none of your business_.' Raoul took a moment to marvel at the fact that Katze was nearly always sending out these easily articulated messages without even having to speak. Raoul doubted he would be able to do so with such accuracy; he would likely be misinterpreted most of the time. As a scientist, Raoul had always preferred explicit communication. It was more efficient and aided progress by leaving little room for doubt. But he could not deny that he was quite captivated by Katze's methods.

As Katze swiftly excused himself and took his leave, Raoul fell more deeply into contemplation. He had never hidden his distaste for Riki from Iason, and still didn't see the attraction that had so enraptured the other Blondie (although he had admittedly taken pains to avoid contact with his friend's infamously unruly and ill-behaved pet as much as possible). But he supposed, at least in the case of this particular slum mongrel, that perhaps there was some potential that he had initially overlooked.

* * *

A/N: Aaaaand I managed to have more substantial dialogue! Goal achieved! But damn, becoming obsessed with characters really brings out the multishipping whore within me... I don't plan on having any Raoul/Katze in this story, but I do kind of ship it and it shows -_-" Thanks for reading! (& I'm still open to suggestions, btw)


	4. Something Problematic

Iason was irritated. Last week had been terribly confusing, and its crowning achievement of sleeping with his current assistant and former furniture was the most confusing of all. Or so he had thought. The aftermath was turning out to be far worse.

He had been rather rude to Raoul. He hadn't even apologized for interrupting or pulling Katze out early. He didn't know when or _why_ he had become so utterly irrational. And it wasn't even that he actually suspected there was something going on between the two of them either, although it _was_ rather strange that Raoul had chosen to approach Katze directly with the matter rather than coming to Iason first.

No, it was simply the _idea_ of Katze being alone with anyone else, the _possibility_ that he might turn his attention to someone else, that he might come to admire or dedicate himself to someone else… Iason simply could not allow that. The look of unconditional devotion that Iason had only really come to appreciate the other night, which he had been unable to resist: that look was for him alone.

Iason gently massaged his forehead with his fingertips. His racing thoughts certainly weren't doing his headache any good. With an exhausted sigh, he leaned back to rest his head on the back of the sofa. '_I want to send him off even less now, but…'_

But this was a job only Katze could do. A few weeks ago Katze had warned him about potential foreign competition organized by sinkers in the black market. If it were only a matter of sinkers, Katze could take care of it, but Iason had recently come across documents that suggested one of the off-planet stout suppliers Katze has long ago made a deal with and absorbed in his takeover was trying to split off again, and planning to expand their business beyond their current product line.

While he could probably handle the competition within the market, Iason had taken it upon himself to do a little more digging on the group they were dealing with and found that the schemers were notorious for being highly aggressive as investors, and more than willing to resort to threats, extortion, violence, or even assassination if that's what it took to get their way.

Iason couldn't let it come to that. If something were to happen to Katze… Iason pressed more firmly against his forehead as if to crush the thought. If they acted on it now, though, with Katze paying a personal visit to the group of sinkers, they would surely fall back in line. And with their potential opening decisively closed, no matter how aggressive they might be, if they had any business sense whatsoever their foreign competition would likely focus their efforts on garnering easier profits.

Iason sat up quickly as he heard the swish of the front door opening and Cal's quiet, polite greeting. He stood up and strode over to meet Katze on his way into the room. "So?" he said immediately, and more sternly than he'd really intended to. Seeing the man in front of him again reminded him of the meeting he had intruded upon and caused the feelings of worry and protectiveness to warp back into jealousy and possessiveness. "Did you and Raoul manage to work something out?"

Katze flinched slightly under his severe gaze but quickly recovered his professional demeanor. "Well, we weren't really able to get into the discussion…" Iason was even more annoyed now. Katze's formal deportment and his own cold manner were grating on his nerves. After what the two of them had already done, what was the need for this farce when they were alone together?

Without another word Iason grabbed Katze and pulled him into a fierce kiss. The other man tensed up only momentarily in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss, naturally, as though he were meant for this. '_Which, of course, he is. Because he's mine._' Iason allowed the thoughts and observations to tumble about in his head, knowing they would cease on their own the further he took this. Deciding that there was no point in hanging about, Iason swiftly hauled Katze into his bedroom for the second time.

* * *

Iason turned over restlessly in his bed. His headache had only worsened in the hour since Katze had left to deal with the sinkers, and he could feel the fever burning through his body. In place of the pleasant post-coital lassitude he had enjoyed as he explained the market situation to Katze, that hollow and unnerving feeling that he was forgetting something had arisen.

By now, rather than a vague sense of something being out of place, the feeling had transformed into an odd sense of being able to trace a void, a blocked out space in his mind where _something_ should be, but simply wasn't, or was covered up. He tried entering from all points of the perimeter, but he simply couldn't access it.

'_What's missing? What is it?_' He could feel himself inching closer, but no matter how close he got he couldn't cross the asymptote of the perimeter surrounding that void. The closest he had gotten was tapping into a desperate longing that he found completely incomprehensible. The harder he tried, the more frustrated he became.

He pressed his face into the pillows. He could still detect the scent of opiates, cigarettes, and coffee; the very definition of Katze. He burrowed his arms into the pillows and squeezed tightly. But it wasn't the same, and it wasn't nearly enough. In his desperation, the thought of calling Cal in, just to have someone to hold, actually crossed his mind. But the sheer insanity of the idea actually enabled Iason to laugh it off. No, that was absurd. First of all, Katze was an exception and not a rule, and secondly, as it was Katze he wanted, he doubted that Cal would make for a much more satisfying substitute than the pillows.

Attempting to ease his mind into sleep, he began reviewing his schedule for the next day, and was suddenly stuck dumb by his own stupidity. _Jupiter_. Of course! He had his regular meeting with her tomorrow, the first since all these issues had come up. Naturally he had no intention of providing details about all that had transpired with Katze, but if anyone could explain to him what might be going wrong in his brain it was the one who created it.

Reassured by this, he was finally able to rest.

* * *

A/N: I'm trying to figure out how the line breaks work... It says to use "Shift + Enter" but that hasn't worked so far. I have just discovered the "insert horizontal line" button, however, so fingers crossed! :D And I can't seem to think of good chapter names to I'm sticking with the "Something _" formula. It's my first fic, it can afford to be somewhat lame :3 But yeah, thanks for reading!


	5. Something Unexpected

A/N: Ugh, I had such a hard time with this one... I'm not so good at switching styles to reflect voice so it was really difficult trying to suppress the urge to use the flowery idioms of which I am so fond... Anyway, here's my attempt at writing from Riki's POV!

* * *

Riki took a slow drag on his cigarette, forcibly relaxing his muscles. He could feel Guy's eyes on him but was determined to ignore it. '_What the hell does he want, anyway?_' he thought irritably.

They were all hanging out in their safe house, as per usual. As usual as things had managed to become in the year since Riki's three year absence and return anyway. Sid was silently working through the stout and Luke and Norris, who were already buzzed, were messing around with Kirie.

_Kirie_. Another unwelcome change, along with the new state of his non-relationship with Guy. He knew he should just _talk_ to Guy, clarify things, put them both on the same page, but… What was there to say? What _could_ he say without revealing the shame of those three miserable years spent as a Blondie's plaything? Guy would probably see right through any pathetic excuse he tried to string together.

The sound of Kirie's voice was pissing him off, and the feel of Guy's eyes boring into him was bordering on maddening. He stood up suddenly. "I'm going out for a bit," he announced, striding toward the door and flicking the butt of his cigarette in the general direction of the wastebasket.

"I'll go with-" he heard Guy call out before the sound was cut off by the door slamming behind him.

'_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._' The lone word pulsed through his mind in time with the sound of his feet hitting the pavement as he trudged miserably along. Everything had fallen apart and he had returned to rot in the trash heap left behind. '_Why? Why did any of this have to happen?_'

Memories of Iason rose up, one after the other, and though he tried his damnedest to beat them back they just kept coming. How the fuck had things ended up this way? How had he fallen so easily into Iason's snare? He suddenly recalled Katze's warning from their last unexpected meeting. If he truly wanted to escape Iason, he should get as far away from him as possible. He briefly considered jumping on the next interplanetary carrier and starting anew wherever it took him. Maybe he could do it. With the knowledge and experience he had gained while working for Katze, he might actually be able to stow away and…

And what? Leave everything behind? Start a new life with honest work? Maybe settle down with some nice foreign girl? Riki snorted derisively, dismissing the pipe dream for what it was. No, he was trapped, once again, in the stagnant slums of Ceres. And while he'd certainly rather be here than chained up in Eos being tormented by Iason, that didn't mean he was _happy_. Ceres could be considered the lesser of two evils, but as far as Riki could see there wasn't much good in it.

Riki stopped abruptly and looked around. He was in an area littered with 24/7 bars and dives. As seedy and shady as they were, they had reputations as good places for those who wanted to remain anonymous and spend the day getting drunk off their asses or high on illicit substances, or both. Unlike the bars Bison hung out at, these places weren't for socializing. They provided an escape.

Because the proprietors asked no questions and the patrons were too busy trying to forget their own business to bother about anyone else's, the place was often frequented by sinkers and career criminals alike. But despite the questionable company, odds were he too would be left well enough alone. Although the moniker "Riki the Dark" was still well-known throughout the slums, in the states the other patrons would likely be in, they probably wouldn't recognize him.

Making up his mind, Riki headed for the nearest entrance, intent on purging all of his odious thoughts and sinking into oblivion.

The next time he came back into awareness, he sat up slowly. He couldn't remember what he'd taken, or how much, but he suspected he'd had at least a few hits of a variety of things. There was no immediately recognizable effect, like the feeling of being drunk or the high of a particular kind of stout. There was only a vague disorientation and his mind was pleasantly quiet. He observed with mild regret that it would have been nice to know exactly what combination of things he had taken, because he would rather like to be able to reproduce this experience.

He gazed around at other customers, staring almost carefully but never really _looking_. Places like this were hardly ever crowded, but they were never empty. He sighed as he slowly sank back into his seat again. He became dimly aware of a figure he recognized coming toward him. When the man stopped in front of him, Riki stated his name the way children do when they point at an object and speak its name, except with little of the pride or excitement. "Katze."

The man didn't respond, but that didn't bother him. Riki smiled serenely, although he couldn't have said why. It was as though something about this was funny in a cynical sort of way, but his brain wasn't capable of processing cynicism at the moment. Katze finally spoke. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice calm and steady.

Riki found that he liked the sound of the man's voice, so he replied, "What everyone else is doing, obviously." That didn't earn him a response, so he added, "You?"

Katze's mouth twisted slightly as though he'd tasted something bitter. "Work," he said curtly. He and Riki watched one another in silence for a few moments, before Katze exhaled shortly in what might have been frustration. "Come on," he said, with the patient firmness of a tired but gentle mother in his voice. Riki allowed the other man to pull him into a standing position and lead him carefully out of the bar.

An air car, purposefully plain and subtle enough to create only a minimal stir, was waiting for Katze in the street. Darkness had fallen as well, aiding the vehicle in its quest for inconspicuousness. After he was helped into the passenger's seat Riki was vaguely surprised to see Katze go around and slide into the driver's seat. As they took off Riki observed absently, "I didn't know you could drive. At least, I've never seen you drive before…"

Katze apparently chose to ignore Riki's remark and stared steadfastly out the windshield instead. Riki felt slightly put out, but the sensation was dulled enough so that it wasn't really unpleasant. He settled back into the seat and closed his eyes, letting his mind go blissfully blank.

* * *

Riki lay still, face down as his brain slowly came back to life. He was warm and comfortable and didn't really feel like moving. But he didn't know where he was and couldn't remember how he got there, and eventually his curiosity grew strong enough to give him the energy to prop himself up on his elbows.

He glanced around and took in the utilitarian bedroom. He didn't recognize it. He tried again to remember how he had ended up here, but still came up with nothing. With a sigh he gave up and dropped his face back into the pillows. Inhaling deeply, his brain suddenly registered the scent of opium laced cigarettes. Katze.

A vague memory of going to a bar surfaced, and he pieced together the rest himself. He must have met Katze, who must have dragged him back to his place. Mystery solved, Riki stretched and decided he probably owed the man some sort of thanks, so he got up and opened the door.

The bedroom was at the end of a short hallway that appeared to lead into the living room. As he headed down the hall, thinking he might ask Katze for a cup of coffee to clear the grogginess, he heard the other man's voice.

"I have checked all the public places they were likely to be. I can only assume that we have come in a little later than we had anticipated and they are already working in secret."

Rounding the corner, Riki saw Katze sitting at his terminal. Without thinking, he walked up and clapped a hand on his shoulder, intending to inform him that he was going to swipe some of his coffee. That was when he noticed the figure on the screen and froze in place. He had known he was interrupting business, but he hadn't thought…

Terrifyingly magnificent, cruelly beautiful, Iason was every inch the Blondie that continued to haunt Riki's mind. Though seeing Iason felt like being struck by lightning, hearing his next words froze his blood and made him feel like he was disintegrating.

"And who is this?"

Riki barely heard the icy accusation in those words and he didn't need to; the mere fact that Iason had spoken them meant that they were said in all seriousness. Iason did not tell jokes. Katze stood up hastily and hauled Riki bodily away by his upper arms. Riki couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen and his eyes remained glued to the terminal until it was out of sight.

Katze deposited him back in the hallway. "_Stay here_," he ordered in urgent undertone, his eyes boring into Riki's. Katze's face was ashen and he looked legitimately terrified, so Riki only nodded dumbly. As soon as Katze released him, hurrying back to his terminal, Riki's legs gave out and he sank helplessly to the floor. Just barely in the hallway, Riki could still hear everything that was being said.

"Well?" Iason demanded impatiently. He hated being kept waiting, and never repeated himself, as Riki knew all too well. '_Don't make me say the same thing twice._' Riki shuddered as the echoes of Iason's voice reverberated in his mind.

"My apologies. He's just a mongrel I had working for me in the market," Riki marveled at Katze's calm, matter-of-fact tone. There was no trace of the panic that had been so apparent only moments before. Katze continued, "He proved himself to be exceptionally skilled, so I put him in charge of affairs here when I relocated to Eos. I can assure you that he is perfectly trustworthy. Please do not concern yourself with him."

Riki's mind whirred, working in overdrive. He remembered his last conversation with Katze, the shocking revelations about Guardian and Katze's own past. He knew that Katze still obeyed Iason's every order without question, his fear of the Blondie unaffected by his own success running the Ceres black market. But in that case, how could he look into Iason's face and straight up _lie_ to him? And more importantly, _why_? And why didn't Iason recognize him?

Despite his racing thoughts, Riki continued listening to the conversation.

"He had a rather bad reaction to me," Iason observed in what could have been taken as arrogant amusement if it weren't for the scathing contempt and barely concealed suspicion edging his words. Katze only returned mildly, "Well, of course. Like most mongrels, he's never even caught a glimpse of a Blondie before. I'm sure he was appropriately awed."

There was a moment of tense silence and Riki had the sense that there was a battle of wills going on. Iason was wordlessly pressing for the whole truth, and Katze was doing his utmost to feign innocence. Finally, Iason seemed to concede the day to Katze, although, as Katze himself had pointed out, that didn't mean he was through. '_He would never be so charitable_.'

"Very well, then. You have business with him, I presume?" Iason's clipped tones indicated that he was wrapping things up.

"Yes, I had planned to discuss our next moves to handle this sinker situation with him after receiving your counsel. He got a bit impatient, it seems," Katze adapted to the change in the conversation's flow with the smooth effortlessness of a man with experience to spare.

"You are far more familiar with the state of affairs in the slums than I," Iason said coolly. "You have my permission to take whatever measures you deem necessary."

The farewells and dismissal must have been nonverbal, because the next thing Riki heard was the sound of Katze getting up and walking toward him. Now that the input his brain had been focusing on was shut off, his mental functions too seemed to close down. '_Why? Why? Why?_' was the only word his brain was able to conjure.


	6. Something Difficult

A/N: Ugh, this chapter was sooo hard for me…. I didn't know what to do so I was like, 'Okay: argument time!' My apologies; please enjoy~! (& still with the not owning)

* * *

"Riki, I'm sorry," Katze said again. He'd lost track of how many times he'd said it, though it occurred to him that he'd probably said 'I'm sorry' more times that morning than ever before in his entire life. Riki had been in near hysterics since his short encounter with Iason, so much so that it was a wonder that he had managed to comprehend any of what was revealed to him afterward. And Katze had spilled _everything_ concerning the memory wipe, including his newly physical relationship with Iason.

He had only just persuaded Riki into taking a sedative (the frantic mongrel had adamantly refused until he had received the answers he demanded), and was currently doing the best he could to calm and comfort the other man.

"It's just, I don't _understand_," Riki said in a near whisper. His eyes were filled with tears, but Katze had yet to see a single one fall. "How is it even possible to just pick and choose information from someone's brain like that? Physically it all looks the same right? How can you even tell which parts have to do with a particular person? And then how do you alter them? And how do you know you've even done it right? You said it made him pretty sick, right? It just… it just doesn't make any sense!"

Katze couldn't tell if Riki was just ranting or was really looking for answers, but he tried to answer what he could.

"Honestly, I don't really know how it works; all I know is what Raoul deigned to tell me, which wasn't much. When I asked about his symptoms, Raoul said that his frequent headaches are the result of his brain trying to follow neural paths that have been eliminated, so he must have messed around with the connections somehow, restructuring them to the way Jupiter had originally designed them… So it's like all the bridges to you have been burned, and he's trying to re-build the pathways but doesn't know where he's even trying to connect them to… And his immune system takes the alterations as a sign of some sort of illness or virus, so it responds with fevers to clear it out."

The entire time Katze was speaking, Riki was staring at the floor silently. He finally looked up at Katze and whispered, "It's not fair…"

"I know," Katze whispered back gently, thinking of Iason, but unexpectedly Riki blew up at him.

"No, no you don't fucking know! Now I'm the only one who knows what that bastard did to me! He just gets to have his mind wiped clean and go on his merry way, while I'm stuck having to deal with how fucked up he's made me! Not that he ever would have felt even an ounce of remorse for it even if he had remembered, but… Damn it! Since you fucking _wanted_ it there's no way you could understand what it's like to have him _force_ you- to be beaten and tormented into submission in the most humiliating ways-"

Riki suddenly cut himself off, appearing to choke on his words. "He's ruined me," Riki whispered helplessly, tears finally falling. Katze drew him in silently, not knowing how to respond, but Riki just continued murmuring into his shoulder, "I'm so messed up, I, I can't even _look_ at Guy anymore without remembering something awful… And it's even worse when he tries to make advances…"

Riki pressed his face heavily into Katze's shoulder. "It's just so awkward and clumsy, and he's so hesitant and meek, and compared to being with Iason it's just…" Riki snorted and sat up, suddenly looking more collected, though there was an air of resignation about him. "Well, you know what he's like in bed too now, I guess."

On the surface it sounded like a cynical observation, but the genuine hurt underneath made Katze flinch guiltily. But then the memory of yesterday morning abruptly arose, the thoughts that had chased him out of the penthouse and resulted in him spending most of the morning speeding around recklessly in his air car, trying to escape them. Anger stirred within him.

"This isn't exactly a dream come true for me, you know," he snapped back. "Yes, I enjoy being with Iason, I won't deny that, but it's always dulled by the fact that I'm just your replacement. He was completely _obsessed_ with you, Riki, and while I'm sure you don't exaggerate his abuses, I really believe that he loved you."

There, he'd finally said it. From the shocked look on his face, Katze guessed that the thickheaded mongrel had honestly never noticed. Well in that case, someone _had_ to tell him or the thought might never have crossed his mind. Then again, perhaps it no longer mattered, considering the current situation, but even so…

For a moment Riki seemed lost for words. "_Love?!_" he sputtered incredulously, looking appalled, "How could you _possibly_ construe the horrible things he did to me as acts of _love_?! That is _beyond_ sick, Katze! If that's how he treats people he cares about I'd much rather he hate me-"

"It's not like that!" Katze interrupted. On some level he understood where Riki was coming from: there was really no excuse for the way Iason had treated him. But Katze had spent many years defending his Blondie master from his own rogue thoughts, justifying the other man's occasionally cruel behavior with warped reasoning and the "he was made to be that way" excuse, further soothing himself with examples of Iason's even more occasional behaviors that could pass for kindness.

"He's a _Blondie_, Riki," he emphasized exasperatedly. "He's not even supposed to be _capable_ of loving you, so of course he doesn't know how to express it properly! _Think_, Riki! Making you his pet against all precedent just because he wanted you close, keeping you to himself and _breaking the law_ because he couldn't resist you, and then letting you go instead of 'disposing' of you or beating you down because he wanted you to stay _you_. He loves your _character_, Riki, that fighting spirit that you have; it intrigues him."

"Oh, really? Because I seem to remember a hell of a lot of "obedience training" meant to beat that out of me and turn me into a submissive pleasure slave like the rest of those pathetic-"

"Because he wanted you to be different around _him_! That's the attraction of monogamy, right? To have someone who cares about you more than anyone else, who always puts you first and treats you differently from the way they treat everyone else…"

Katze stopped himself abruptly. He and Riki were still sitting side by side on the sofa, but they were glaring at each other, both breathing harder than usual.

"Fuck this," Riki muttered, getting up. He stumbled slightly, the sedative apparently taking its toll at last. Katze was surprised he'd managed to convince Riki to take it; maybe the other man had sensed his own panic and lack of control, thickheaded though he was. And maybe he too should have taken something… He'd lost his temper again, just like that time with Raoul. But when it came to Iason, Katze's stoicism tended to slip.

"Riki…" Katze said softly, standing up too. Riki didn't respond but allowed Katze to pull him into an embrace. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, for what he hoped would be the last time that day. The other man still gave no response. Katze sighed heavily. He really hadn't meant to get into an argument; he had only wanted to make the other man see, to make him understand what he had meant to Iason… But for what? So that he would appreciate it? Appreciate Iason? It wasn't like any realization of Riki's would do any good for either Iason or Riki at this point.

He felt Riki shift in his arms, moving to rest his entire upper body against Katze's chest. '_That's right…_' He'd been so caught up with Iason he'd almost forgotten… He carefully lifted an arm to run a hand through the other's hair. Memories rose up from when Riki had worked for him on the black market. '_That's right…_' he thought to himself, '_I cared about Riki too… No, I __**care**__ about Riki too_.'

"Sometimes," Katze murmured quietly, "I think about what it could have been like… if I'd been presented with a different set of options back then…" His voice trailed off as he felt Riki tense up, fists clenching in the material of Katze's shirt. It was true though. Even he had not been immune to Riki's charisma, although as a castrate the effect on him was rather less potent than it otherwise might have been. But still he had wanted to keep Riki by his side, to nurture his potential; he had even fantasized about making him his protégé, after all, rumors about that had been swirling at the time. But then Iason gave his order and Katze had obeyed, as always. And he had understood too, why Iason was so taken with this particular mongrel. And why he had never had a chance with either of them…

'_Until now, that is_,' his mind articulated, unbidden, '_Things are different now, now that everything's all screwed up…_' And yet, even though Riki was now an unclaimed gem, ready and waiting for Katze to polish, and even though Iason had finally taken an interest in him, and even though he basically had everything he had ever wanted… He wasn't happy. He tightened his arms around Riki. How could he be, with Riki so dejected and miserable, and Iason so frustrated and distant? If this was what being apart did to them, he would much prefer that they be together, even if that meant they would forget about him entirely.

Riki had yet to offer any sort of response. The sedative Katze had given him hadn't been that strong, but getting worked up in itself was rather exhausting (Katze was feeling rather worn out himself), and that combined with the sedative was probably enough to put Riki out of commission for an hour or two.

Gently, he repositioned the two of them and led Riki back into the bedroom. Riki made no protest as Katze lay him back down on the bed. He sat down too. Now probably wasn't the best time, but he decided to offer Riki a proposal.

"Listen, Riki… I was thinking that, if you were interested, I'd like to have you working for me in the market again. Of course, I understand if you're feeling angry or upset with me: it would be perfectly natural to feel somewhat betrayed or jealous…"

Surprisingly, Riki interrupted, "I don't know what I'm feeling…" He paused for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face into the pillows. Seeming to pull himself together he shifted to stare at the wall and continued, "Everything just seems so unfair; I feel so helpless and it's just really frustrating; I don't know if I'm jealous of you or if I'm jealous of him, or both, or if I'm even jealous at all… Maybe I'm just upset about being used and thrown away… forgotten…"

The pained resignation in his voice hurt Katze almost physically. "You're not forgotten, Riki. Even though he doesn't remember you, somehow you're still all he thinks about. Raoul has noticed it too, I think. Iason is _different_ now because of you, I'm not sure exactly _how_, but… I'm sure he'll figure something out, and maybe once he's proven he can handle everything… maybe Jupiter will change her mind…"

It was a longshot and they both knew it. Riki looked up at Katze and said tiredly, "I think I'd like that. Working on the black market again, I mean."

Katze nodded silently and stroked Riki's hair again with a tenderness that surprised even himself. "Sleep now, Riki. I have some things I need to take care of so I'll be out for a while, but stay here as long as you'd like."

Riki didn't say anything, but nestled more deeply into the pillows, so Katze took that as assent. He stood up and headed straight for the door. He was hardly in the mood for mind games at the moment, but the sooner he got this sinker situation sorted out, the sooner he would have one less thing to worry about, and considering how complicated his personal life was getting, the simpler his work life was, the better.

* * *

A/N: Yes, yes, I totally ship Katze/Riki too… I know I have a problem ." But like, chapter 1 of book 6 (from which I borrowed that "different set of options" snippet), and that scene in the '90s OVA when he flips the table… I mean, COME ON, even Guy sees "a subtle, hidden intimacy"; I have reasons, okay! *cough cough* But yeah, sorry it took so long (for any of those who may have been waiting), and I hope everyone enjoyed reading it, though it wasn't exactly a happy chapter…


	7. Something Interesting

A/N: Thanks so much to my second guest reviewer! Your kind words gave me the warm and fuzzies, and caused me to skip around giggling and clapping for a solid 20 minutes! XD! Your encouragement really means a lot, so I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Though I'm thinking you might like the next one better ;D)

* * *

Raoul leaned back on the sofa, the glass of wine his furniture had brought him untouched on the table before him. He felt restless but refused to give in to the urge to pace around. At moments like this, he wished he were alone in his lab where he could lose himself in the flow of research and experimentation.

As it was, he was currently sitting in his Eos apartment, awaiting a visit from Iason. He had heard nothing from the man for two whole days, since his meeting with Katze was rather awkwardly interrupted and Iason sent the man off for business or some such. But then that morning he had unexpectedly received a call from Iason, urgently requesting a meeting.

Undeniably it made him nervous. Had Iason discovered something? Had Katze let something slip, or worse, had Iason's memory somehow spontaneously recovered? Unlikely, but he certainly wouldn't say impossible.

He was brought out of his musings as his furniture announced, "Sir, Iason Mink has arrived." Raoul nodded with a cool, "See him in," before reaching down and forcing himself to take a sip of his wine. But his movements felt clumsy and he coughed as he accidentally swallowed some the wrong way. Giving up, he placed the wine back on the table just as Iason entered the room.

"Iason!" he greeted with a warm smile. He received the tiniest quirk of the lips in return. "Please, sit," he urged, moving over slightly and gesturing at the space beside himself on the sofa. Iason gracefully sat down in the space indicated. "Would you care for anything, sir?" the furniture asked.

"No, please leave us," Iason replied. He sounded cold and collected as usual, but Raoul felt a flicker of nervousness as the furniture exited the room. Deciding not to drag out his anxiety, he assumed a business-like air and got straight to the point.

"So, what is it that you wanted to discuss?"

Iason gave a self-deprecating smirk that mystified Raoul. He was even more confused by the man's next words. "I was wondering… what you thought of me," he said in such an offhanded manner that Raoul couldn't help but question whether he was serious. But of course, Iason always was, so he elected not to just throw his hands up and directly ask what exactly was going through his friend's mind. "What I thought of you?" Raoul repeated instead, letting a little of his concern into his voice.

"Yes," Iason confirmed, as calmly as ever, "As in, what do you think of me as an individual sentient being? 'Who am I?' I suppose, is what I'm asking. 'How do you see me?' in other words."

Raoul was lost for words. "I…" He tried again, "…That's-"

"I understand that this is quite sudden, so of course I don't expect you to be able to answer my question immediately." Iason spoke as if talking to himself, not even looking at Raoul. "After all, it has been bothering me for several days now; I spent the entirety of yesterday pondering it ceaselessly yet I still haven't answered it. I'm becoming rather desperate at this point, I'll admit. I've even spoken to Jupiter about it."

"To Jupiter?!" Raoul exclaimed disbelievingly. '_When? What did she tell him? He doesn't seem to know about the procedure, so then how did she respond to him?_' He couldn't bring himself to demand the details, but luckily Iason continued on his own.

"Yes, I brought it up during our regular meeting the other day. I told her that I had been feeling… strange, lately, like there's something wrong with my brain. It's probably psychological, but it only started after my illness, which led me to suspect that it might be physical. I reasoned that, seeing as she created my brain, she was probably the most likely to notice if something were different about it."

"And what did she say?" Raoul asked, mind spinning. He was quite curious now too. This seemed to go beyond mere disorientation caused by the memory wipe. Iason seemed to be having a full-blown identity crisis, and Raoul wanted to know what had caused it.

"Nothing, really," Iason replied, sounding almost bored, and Raoul felt his expectations crumble. "'The matter will settle itself in due time,' or something to that effect. I was assured that there was no need to do anything drastic and then we went on with business as usual."

"I see…" Raoul muttered, mostly because he felt he ought to respond in some way. However, he really had no idea how to react to this information. He didn't think there was anything Jupiter could have said that wouldn't have surprised him, but still, why would she merely brush aside Iason's questions? She should know that Blondies won't take anything less than the truth for the final answer. This wouldn't end until Iason knew everything about it, and that made Raoul worry.

"Anyway, there was… something else I wanted to discuss. It's related, but it's something I couldn't bring up with Jupiter."

Raoul's throat tightened in anticipation. He had a strange feeling that he knew what was coming, but he couldn't put it into words. "And that would be…?" he managed to force out.

"What would you say… if I were to tell you that my relationship with Katze had become …_physical_…?" Iason's inflections made it sound less like a question and more like the confession it was likely meant to be.

Raoul's mind froze, gripped in a painful sense of déjà vu. '_If I said that I- that I __**loved**__ Riki, you'd probably laugh, wouldn't you, Raoul?_' He had received that confession not long before the order came to physically remove that feeling from the other man. But it had only been ten days since the memory wipe… To think that this would have happened so soon afterwards… Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

"I would ask just when and how exactly this change occurred," Raoul said carefully, trying to remain calm. '_It must have been a few days ago, after he called him out of our meeting…_'

"Well, the first time was five days ago," Iason answered with an almost nihilistic nonchalance.

'_Five days?! __**First time?!**_' Raoul's mind raced, frantically trying to comprehend what he was hearing. _'How many "times" have there been?! Moreover, five days… Then that means-!_' Raoul clenched his teeth, suddenly filled with a strong urge to throttle a certain ruby-haired mongrel. '_Then that means by the last meeting he had already-!_'

"What do you think of me now, Raoul?"

Raoul detected the sad resignation underneath the challenge in his friend's words. He inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly. '_Alright,_' he thought to himself, determined to stay level-headed, '_Nothing can be done to change what has already happened. Well, except modifying their memories, apparently._' The thought arose with an unexpected amount of bitterness. '_No, not again. I will refuse to do it if it comes to that. Even if it means that my mind gets altered as well._'

He was almost overcome by a wave of regret. While it was true that had he refused to perform the operation, they might both be sitting there with modified minds, he would have preferred that mutual ignorance to the guilt he was currently feeling. This realization surprised him: as someone who had dedicated himself to unlocking the mysteries of the universe, demanding that Nature reveal its secrets, ignorance was his worst enemy. If he could know something, he wanted to know it. But the knowledge that he had betrayed his closest friend was one piece of information that he would happily forego.

And, although he had truly been against tampering with Iason's mind, he hadn't really thought it would be _bad_ for Iason to forget Riki. That mongrel had been nothing but trouble; he was the eyesore of Eos, and worse than that he was damaging Iason's reputation. If left unchecked, he might very well have brought about the ruin of Jupiter's favorite child, the highest-ranking elite and the leader of the Tanagura Blondies. That someone so lowly could hold so much power over someone so important utterly bewildered Raoul. And he couldn't deny that it angered him as well.

He would hesitate to call it a motivator, but the thought that by erasing Iason's memories of Riki, he might actually be saving his treasured friend _had_ crossed his mind. When he had confirmed with the man himself that Iason planned to bring Riki back (and subsequently received that disturbing confession), he had felt real fear beneath the exasperation that he allowed himself to show. But if Iason's reaction to the disappearance of the object of his infatuation were to simply fall for the next decent-looking mongrel, then it had all been for naught.

Swallowing his frustration and remorse, Raoul returned his thoughts to the problem at hand. '_There is nothing I can do to fix what I have already done, but I can at least try to handle things correctly this time around. All I can do is make the best of the circumstances I'm already in, after all._'

"Iason…" he began cautiously. Iason met his eyes almost reluctantly, and Raoul continued, "Your friendship is very precious to me, and… And if it's something you won't even discuss with Jupiter herself, then I am honored to be so trusted." He had to stop there, because the idea that Iason still trusted him, not knowing about his betrayal, brought a pang of guilt that was physically painful.

He hadn't really answered Iason's question; in fact he hadn't even addressed it, but his response seemed to have a soothing effect on Iason, which in turn made Raoul feel slightly better. He was wracking his brain for something else to say when Iason spoke again. "So then, you wouldn't mind an elaboration?"

'_Well, Iason, it really depends upon what you mean by that,_' Raoul thought to himself, suppressing a shudder at the idea of having to listen to Iason recounting the details of his sexual experiences. But he promised himself that he wouldn't mess up again. It wouldn't un-do what he had done, but he owed it to Iason to be the most loyal and supportive friend that he could manage to be from then on. And besides that, he also needed to prove to himself that he could be a better friend, otherwise the shame of his betrayal might consume him from within.

"If you are willing to continue, of course I'm willing to listen," Raoul stated unevenly but with firm resolve, speaking as much to himself as to Iason.

Iason rewarded him with the slightest of smiles, further strengthening Raoul's determination. However, Iason's smile disappeared as quickly as it came when he continued, "Very well. Unfortunately, there is yet another issue that has been plaguing me, though this one is the most recent."

"And that would be…?" Raoul prompted. Iason paused for only a moment longer before giving him the gist all at once.

"When I called Katze the other day, for business, there was someone else in his apartment. He had pure hair and eye color, both onyx black, but Katze insisted he was only a mongrel he had in his employ. I could tell that he was hiding something from me: he was acting oddly shifty, and they seemed awfully friendly with each other. I just have this feeling… I'm certain that man is not just some mongrel. I want to know what Katze is keeping from me and why."

Raoul desperately fought down the panic. '_That __**idiot**__!_' he screamed internally, '_What in Jupiter's name does he think he's doing?! Why the __**fuck**__ is he in contact with Riki?!_' And not just "in contact", he had the mongrel _in his apartment_ and they were being "_awfully friendly_"?! Raoul's fingers literally twitched with the urge to choke the life out of the former furniture, who apparently was not nearly as intelligent as Iason had always claimed.

"Raoul…?" Iason's voice came to him as though from far away, despite the fact that they were sitting not a foot apart on the same sofa. Raoul attempted to soften his features into a reassuring smile, which was quite difficult as they had seized up and frozen in fury.

However, it seemed that he was too slow in his attempts to erase the visible signs of his irritation. Iason frowned in the same suspicious way he had over the communicator, and Raoul struggled to swallow the fervent denial that wanted to leap from his throat. He needed to keep a cool head about all this, Iason's unfounded accusations included.

"Raoul," Iason pressed, steel in his voice, "You haven't been-"

"Of course I haven't!" Raoul burst out, the insinuation that he was sexually involved with the man he wanted nothing better than to strangle at the moment being too much for him. His vehemence carried him forward to add, "You know perfectly well how I feel about your-" before he cut himself off just in time. '_Ill-behaved mongrel toys_' he had been about to say, referring as much to Riki as to Katze. But of course Iason no longer had any memories involving Riki, which included the large volume of complaints Raoul had made about the rebellious mongrel.

"...odd…tastes…" he finished awkwardly instead. '_No, he doesn't remember even having a mongrel pet, much less what my feelings were about the matter. Although apparently he has decided to make do with what he has..._'

With a scoff that was more sad than scathing Iason repeated, "My "odd tastes", hmm? Well, I suppose I know how you feel about them now." Raoul was suddenly and painfully aware that he had just made a serious error. Iason's expression was still composed, but there was a tightness about his jaw that made Raoul's insides cringe guiltily.

Iason rose with his usual dignity, but there was a defeated air about him that made Raoul feel like he had betrayed his friend all over again. "Wait!" he cried, jumping up to stop Iason from leaving and grasping his shoulders, "I didn't mean-!"

"Didn't mean what, Raoul?" Iason interrupted. Raoul was finding it hard to meet Iason's impassive gaze. "Didn't mean to imply that you find my behavior disgusting? Or that my "tastes" repulse you?" Iason lifted his arms up between Raoul's and swiftly brushed both of the other's hands off his shoulders simultaneously.

Acting quickly, Raoul clasped Iason's hands in his and drew them together, holding them to his chest as he attempted to penetrate Iason's cold mask with his own sincere gaze. "Iason, you are my dearest friend," he said, perhaps a little too gravely, but he couldn't let his best, and really his _only_ friend, believe that he despised him, especially after all that had transpired. In the context of their relationship, Raoul was the one who had done the most wrong and he was well aware of that fact.

Seeing that there was still some skepticism in Iason's expression, Raoul threw caution to the wind and played his wild card: "I love you." He sincerely hoped that Iason would not misunderstand him, but he felt that by qualifying his declaration he would diminish its meaning.

Fortunately, Iason smiled weakly (instead of standing there looking shocked, which would indicate that he had misinterpreted Raoul's meaning), and said with a tired softness, "I thought you would be one to laugh at the use of such a word, Raoul."

"Never," he said firmly, sustaining eye contact. Iason's countenance shed its remaining rigidity and his lips curved into a genuine smile. "And here I was convinced that you thought me a fool."

Raoul only chuckled slightly in response, gently leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. After a moment he frowned slightly and pulled back to press the back of his hand to Iason's forehead. "You're too warm," he informed him quietly.

"I'm just rather worn out," Iason murmured back. Raoul wasn't surprised: these past ten days must have been equally physically and emotionally exhausting for Iason (not to mention mentally, as he continued to perform his regular duties as the head of the Tanagura syndicate and the supervisor of the politics and economy of Amoi, which included dealing with foreign affairs).

"Why don't you rest here tonight?" Raoul suggested. Iason murmured his agreement, so Raoul led him into his own chambers and saw to it that he was made comfortable for the night. As he exited, the furniture approached, looking slightly confused. "Master Mink is staying here tonight; do not disturb him. Prepare the guest chamber for my use," he directed, by way of explanation. The furniture nodded once to show it understood and then hurried off to carry out its duties.

Raoul sank down slowly onto the sofa and picked up his still barely touched wine glass, sipping it thoughtfully. '_I love you_.' Raoul felt heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment as he remembered his own words. '_But there you have it_,' he thought, a feeling of acceptance and satisfaction soothing the discomfiture, '_In order to convince someone that you don't find them foolish, simply prove yourself to be the bigger fool_.'

But still, this was the most at peace he had felt with himself in quite a while. Of course, he was still going to deal harshly with Katze, but he felt that the confrontation could wait until tomorrow. Thoughts of Katze soon led to thoughts of Riki. He had never liked the mongrel and had been very vocal about that fact, even voicing his concerns to Jupiter herself. Though now he strongly hoped that his actions had not significantly contributed to the decision the A.I. had eventually made about the matter.

This time around, he wasn't going to breathe a word to anyone about what Iason was up to. It helped that the man was being far less public about it, eliminating the social pressure for Raoul to openly confirm his disapproval. But even if things did get out of hand again and create another scandal, this time Raoul was going to stand by his friend's side. Yes, he disagreed with what Iason was doing, but he was determined to defend him anyway. As for Katze, that lying son of a bitch… Well, his hours were numbered.

* * *

A/N: So that only took me forever and a half! I had the hardest time figuring out what to write, but now I think I know what I'm doing for the next chapter so hopefully that one won't take as long. Yay for my longest chapter yet! And thanks again to Tiamate and Rimah (still pretty sure the site doesn't provide any other means of reply for guest reviews, so this is the best I can do to express my appreciation: Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You guys rock!)


	8. Something New

Iason lay himself down carefully upon the rather small, rickety bed. Compared to what he was used to as a Tanagura elite, Katze's apartment was undeniably substandard. But he knew the other man was not really one to care about luxury and was sure that this apartment served his needs while here just fine. And it didn't really matter much now anyway, since Katze had switched his base of operations to Eos.

Iason let his eyes flutter shut as he tried to relax on the unfamiliarly small bed. After waking up in Raoul's room, he had quietly taken his leave without even a word to the furniture. Before falling asleep he had done some more thinking and had determined that the best thing to do would be to confront Katze about the whole thing directly, then help him to resolve the sinker issue once and for all so that he could drag the man back to Eos as quickly as possible and all would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

But inconveniently, Katze appeared to have already gone out, so Iason had simply let himself in to wait for him. His thoughts wandered back to yesterday's events. Raoul had definitely seemed strange… A smile tugged at his lips as he remembered his friend's almost desperate affirmation. _"I love you."_ He failed to suppress a small chuckle. He had never realized before that moment that Blondies were even capable of being so… _awkward_. But there was his proof.

Still, the gesture was warming, if a bit suspicious. He found it hard to believe that Raoul would have felt the need to make sure Iason knew of his loyalty and affection without some special motivation. Not in the sense of an ulterior motive, but more along the lines of a particular reason, such as a major falling out. True, they had been arguing at the time, but normally Raoul's pride would prevent him from backing down, as long as no serious lines had been crossed, which they hadn't been. So why had he been so willing and eager to reconcile so quickly? Iason would have thought that news of the like that he had presented his friend with would have required a longer period of adjustment before the other man could even properly face him again, let alone offer his support.

Suddenly his musings were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone entering the apartment. Iason sat up instantly, more than ready to get this confrontation over with and get Katze back into his much more comfortable bed in Eos. Before he had even managed to stand, however, there was an unexpected crashing sound, immediately followed by a loud exclamation. "FUCK!"

Iason froze in place, like a predator not wanting to scare off potential prey. His perfectly crafted mind whirred into action. That was not Katze. Not his voice and not his reaction style. Iason's blood began to simmer. He had come here to ensure that there was nothing between Katze and that black haired mongrel, impatient to forget about all of the anxieties he'd been having lately and move on with his new relationship with Katze, and with Raoul's blessing no less. But what if, and he had never thought to _actually_ consider this, what if there really _was_ something between the two of them?

'_I'll kill him_,' Iason's brain supplied, not currently operating in its most rational mode, but alert and ready for action. Iason stealthily made his way out into the hall. There was a part of him that still hoped he was wrong, that maybe it was one of Katze's insipid henchmen… He'd even settle for a break-in at this point… He glanced carefully around the corner in time to see the black haired mongrel -swiftly killing his last hope- finish straightening something up before sighing heavily and flopping listlessly onto the couch. Iason was ready to pounce when both of them were surprised by the sound of the terminal announcing an incoming call.

_Who could that be?_ Iason was genuinely bewildered. He was fairly certain that he was the only one who ever video called Katze; people in the slums tended to stick to text based communications. The mongrel stood with exaggerated weariness, groaning dramatically, and it took Iason a few moments to register that he intended to answer the call. '_He's answering calls for him?_' Iason's mild bewilderment was quickly growing frantic. '_Just how close are they…?!_'

He was even more shocked to see the face on the screen when the mongrel finally accepted the call. '_Raoul?_' There was an odd detachment between his mind and emotions. Consciously, he remained cold and practical, sharply observing everything that was occurring for future analysis. But on another level, his emotions were already spiraling out of control and threatening insanity. Though outwardly he remained in control and his logical mind continued to function, Raoul's reaction to the mongrel had the effect of instantly numbing the swirling emotional vortex that had developed inside of him.

"You!" Raoul exclaimed upon seeing the mongrel, sounding equally startled and furious. Iason could almost hear the mongrel glaring back at the screen. "You," he returned, in a dry tone that suggested distaste. Raoul spluttered.

"Wha- Just what do you think you're doing?!" he demanded, voice laced with accusation.

The mongrel continued to use the same bored yet defiant tone. "Waiting for Katze."

"Why are you messing with his terminal?"

"I wasn't; _you_ called."

"Why did you answer? His calls aren't any of your business!"

The mongrel shrugged. "Thought it might be important."

Raoul's voice suddenly hardened dangerously. "What if I had been Iason?"

The mongrel bristled at that, which the practical half of Iason's brain carefully noted, although his state of emotional shock was such that nothing more could really surprise him at the moment. "You know, it's funny you should mention that," the mongrel began, voice turning poisonous, "Because just the other day-"

"I already know about that," Raoul interrupted in a near snarl, "Which brings me back to my first question: _What the hell do you two think you're doing?_"

"What the hell do _you_ think _you're_ doing?" the mongrel retorted insolently without missing a beat. "Katze has told me all about the memory wipe. So what the fuck is going on up there in your little Blondie world? Is the computer queen no longer satisfied with her toys? Decided they could use a factory reset?"

Raoul looked ready to explode with rage, while Iason, on the other hand, barely comprehended the insults. His mind was stuck on two of the mongrel's words. _Memory wipe?_

As Raoul struggled to form words in his rage, the mongrel went on, "But from what I hear even the default settings are fucked up, because once I was out of the picture he went straight for Katze, and went all the way too. You Blondies are seriously just fucked up all the way through, aren't you?" Then he added with a snort, "Even by perverse slum mongrel standards."

"_That's enough_," Raoul growled in a voice not even Iason had known him to be capable of producing. He looked like he wanted nothing better than to break through the screen and rip the mongrel limb from limb.

Apparently Raoul's tone was threatening enough to finally spur the mongrel's self-preservation instincts into action. He was silent for a moment before blurting out in a broken voice, "Why did you do it?"

Raoul blanched, seeming sincerely taken aback by either the question or the tone of voice in which it was asked, or perhaps both. "I…"

But suddenly things began to make sense to Iason, and not in a good way. His illness, the way everyone had been acting, Katze and Raoul secretly meeting, the persistent feeling that something was off, missing… The mongrel….

The emotional whirlpool spun instantaneously back to life, and Iason could no longer bear to stand there passively listening. He swept into the room, purposefully remaining out of the screen's field of vision. He heard the mongrel gasp but didn't turn to him until he had unplugged the terminal, and watched the image of Raoul's face fade from the screen. He would save that interrogation for later, when he had more of a grasp on the situation. For now…

He strode up to the mongrel, grabbing hold of him as he came up to him, but then continuing his long strides until he reached the wall, which he then slammed the mongrel against, with deliberate but brutal force.

The mongrel, for all its previous display of bravado and reckless insolence, now looked very much like a lost, kicked puppy. Dazed and petrified, it seemed all the creature could manage to do was stare up at Iason with a mixture of disbelief and terror. Knowing the mongrel was operating at minimal mental capacity at the moment, Iason elected to be as brief and exact as possible.

"Name." He wasn't asking. The mongrel seemed to pick that up without a problem.

"Riki." There was no rush of familiarity in response to the name. Iason grew increasingly frustrated.

"How do you know Katze?"

"I worked for him a few years ago." The mongrel –Riki- was frowning slightly now, apparently starting to come to himself.

"What is the exact nature of your relationship now?"

This time the mongrel -_Riki_- didn't say anything. Instead he gazed up at Iason, even having the gall the meet his eyes. He looked thoughtful, now, but also strangely sad. Iason, however, was in no mood to play mind games with a slum mongrel. He wanted a clear, complete explanation, and he wasn't going to wait for it.

He roughly readjusted his grip on the mongrel –what did his name matter anyway- and slammed him against the wall again.

"I want to hear everything you know about him, and about me."

Still the mongrel said nothing. All pretenses of patience and control beginning to slip, Iason yanked the mongrel forward, their faces now only inches apart, and demanded:

"Spill it. Everything. _Now_."

Finally, something seemed to break inside the creature. Eyes tearing up, he suddenly snarled:

"Fine, you want to know the truth? You kidnapped me, tortured me for three years, then decided you'd had quite enough fun and chucked me back into the slums. Satisfied?"

When Iason offered no response he continued, still with a nasty edge to his voice, "And that's not a complaint, by the way; that was my happy ending."

Iason remained silent, knowing there was more, and not wanting any reaction of his to disturb the flow of the full truth. "At least it was, until a couple of days ago, when I ran into Katze for the first time since you had him trick me into becoming your sex slave. Then I find out-"

He choked up a bit, but swallowed forcefully and pushed on, "Then I saw you… but you didn't recognise me and… and Katze said that Jupiter had ordered Raoul the remove all of your memories of me… I still don't know how… Surgically, somehow, I guess… they just…"

Iason didn't move, but now it was not due to his calculated strategy. He was legitimately shocked. His mind flashed back to last night. "_Raoul…_"

His silence wasn't intended as a prompter for the mongrel to continue, but he did anyway. "He also told me… about… that you two…" the mongrel twisted his lips then spat out, "That you seemed to have found a nice way of getting along without me."

That made Iason pause, his attention now drawn to reappraising the creature before him. "_Riki, he said?_" Iason thought, eyeing the man with keener interest. Now that he let himself notice it, there was a certain charisma about him, the pure black hair and piercing black eyes. But to think that he had taken this mongrel, presumably for a pet…? And had personally had intercourse with it? Wasn't that a little too much?

Riki, as Iason supposed he ought to call him, appeared to be done, and was now refusing to make eye contact, staring steadfastly at a patch of floor somewhere past Iason's feet. Curious now, despite his overwhelming confusion, Iason lifted his hand to cup the smaller man's jaw, firmly but not roughly turning his face to better inspect it. His sharp eyes took in every detail, and his thumb began to gently trace the jawline almost subconsciously.

Although he had at first quietly submitted to Iason's investigations, Riki suddenly jerked back, seeming to snap out of some sort of trance, and slapped Iason's had away, nearly shrieking, "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

Too startled to retaliate immediately, Iason ended up locked in a staring match with Riki, his own unfalteringly impassive gaze meeting with a full on glare from Riki, by means of which the man appeared to be attempting to communicate all of his hate and spite to Iason, perhaps in the hope of destroying him through the sheer force of will. It was not allowed that chance, however, as they were both jolted out of their staring match by the sound of yet another person entering the apartment.

Time seemed to stop as Katze stepped in and took in the sight before him. No one moved. No one spoke. Through the shock, horror slowly began to dawn on Katze's countenance. Yet he remained still, in stunned silence. His eyes occasionally drifted between Iason and Riki, who were each fully fixated on him.

Riki was the one to break them out of this impasse. "Katze…" he began, stepping forward. Iason reacted instinctively, and in a split second his hand had latched onto the mongrel's throat and slammed him into the wall again.

"Wait, Iason!" Katze cried, leaping into action, grabbing a hold of Iason's arm with both of his. He could feel the pull of Katze's not insignificant strength, but his arm stayed rigidly in place as he turned his attention to the other man.

"What are you doing?" he asked with icy calmness, making direct eye contact with him.

Iason saw Katze swallow, hesitating. His apparent unwillingness to respond only angered Iason further. His grip tightened around the mongrel's neck, and the creature began to choke and started clawing at Iason's hand. However, Iason himself kept all of his attention focused on Katze.

"Well?" he demanded again. "You seem to have some sort of desire to protect this mongrel; may I ask from whence that impulse originated?"

"Iason…" Katze seemed to be lost for words, which was certainly unusual for the highly articulate man.

By now, Iason was thoroughly sick of this, this suspicion, this "memory wipe"; somehow, his brain came to the conclusion that if he just killed this mongrel right now, he could take Katze back to Eos and forget that any of this had ever happened. Katze would remain by his side, his and his alone, and he and Raoul could build on the foundation for a closer relationship that they had laid last night, and if any doubts or suspicions ever came up again he would merely crush them and move on.

From where he was standing, it seemed that very good and perfectly viable plan. Using his grip on the mongrel's neck, he pulled him away from the wall, and, easily flipping the body around, pressed its back into his chest. Removing his hand suddenly (the mongrel immediately wrapped both of its own hands around its neck, still choking, but now coughing and gasping), he placed that hand, his left, upon the crook of the mongrel's right shoulder, and brought his right up to the left side of the creature's face.

Katze, who had looked momentarily relieved when Iason had released his chokehold, was looking anxious again as he noticed the positioning of his hands. He opened his mouth, probably only to say Iason's name again, but Iason cut him off.

"If I were to kill this thing-"

"Iason!" Katze protested desperately, but was silenced with a freezing look.

"What would you do?" he continued, calculating eyes analyzing Katze's every movement.

He had flinched, visibly disturbed. "Iason, please-" he tried again.

"Do not make me repeat myself." Iason interrupted smoothly, with a deadly serious determination that Katze would surely recognise to mean that he was looking for a sincere and truthful answer, and would stand for nothing less.

Seeming to realize that there was no other way out of this, Katze tried, "I…"

Then the man's eyes fell upon the mongrel's face, which Iason could not see from his position, and something about it caused Katze's expression to become infinitely more lost. He raised his eyes hopelessly back up to meet Iason's.

"I don't suppose I would be able to do anything," he said with a peculiar softness about his tone, the like of which Iason had never before heard, not from Katze, nor from anyone else with whom he had ever had contact. Surrender, helplessness, and underneath those two most prominent features, a miserable tenderness, sorrowfully loving. And it almost frightened him.

'_Would you hate me?_' Iason had wanted to ask, but now he wasn't sure that he could. But then again, he was starting to get the feeling that he didn't need too. They were still making eye contact, and through all the other confused emotions in those golden eyes, Iason could still clearly see that same devotion that had always been there. Moved, he unconsciously re-adjusted his hands on the mongrel, as though intending to snap his neck at last. '_Shall I end this…?_'

Katze immediately cried, "Iason please, wait! It's not what you think-"

Unexpectedly, the mongrel interrupted, in a weak and hoarse yet somehow still very cynical voice, "Yeah, he's head over heels for you, don't worry about that."

There was a certain bitterness about his tone too, which drew Iason's attention back to him.

"And what do you think of that?" he asked the mongrel, legitimately rather interested, although the jealously still thrummed at the back of his mind.

The mongrel snorted, then after a fit of coughing continued, "I think you two are just perfect for each other. An unrelentingly domineering master and a perfectly submissive slave. You couldn't ask for a better match."

Ignoring, for the moment, that Katze seemed rather hurt by this assessment, Iason specified, "I meant, how do you _feel_ about that."

He deigned to wait patiently as the mongrel massaged his throat. It was quite impressive that he was even able to speak so soon, after all, so Iason was willing to be a little more lenient. When the mongrel was still silent after about two minutes, however, Iason grew a little annoyed. He thrust the mongrel from him, practically throwing him into Katze's arms. And Katze caught him, a little _too_ willingly for Iason's pleasure, and almost immediately wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, which was also not quite in line with what Iason would have preferred.

The mongrel, for his part, certainly didn't seem averse to this development, and after a moment even returned the embrace, hands grasping into fists that clutched onto Katze's jacket.

Katze squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into the mongrel's neck. Iason barely detected his broken yet relieved whisper, "_Riki_…"

But he refused to react in impulsive anger this time. '_I'm thinking about this the wrong way,_' he told himself, as his reason slowly returned. True, he still did not know the exact nature of Katze's relationship to this Riki, but it was obvious to Iason at this point that whatever it was had no bearing upon his own relationship with Katze, at least in terms of the way Katze felt about him. Until this point, he had not realized that that was what really mattered to him.

'_And speaking of what really matters…_' He had been so swiftly and wholly consumed by possessiveness at the sight of Katze that he had lost focus on what was, objectively, the far more important issue. Raoul had modified his memory. And Jupiter had ordered it. Why? According to Riki, and slum mongrel though he was Iason hadn't even thought to doubt him, they had taken away only the memories pertaining to him, presumably as a result of whatever happened when he was Iason's pet. Suspiciously, though, Iason got the impression that his memory had been modified only after he had sent Riki away. And if the goal had been getting the slum mongrel out of Eos, as Iason's knowledge of social conventions would suggest it would have been, then why modify his memory only _after_ the fact?

But then… that feeling that something was missing… Was that something not just his memories, but Riki himself? He thought more about his admittedly rather sudden and certainly unexpected attachment to Katze. What if Jupiter ordered him to get rid of Katze? Would he be able to do it? Iason didn't have to think too much about that question to know that the answer was no. He found it hard enough to part from the man even when he had the full expectation of meeting with him again, to part with him permanently would be-

Iason's body jerked involuntarily with the force of a sudden realization. He had never intended to set the mongrel free. He had let him go fully intending to get him back somehow. He now knew himself well enough to know at least that.

His sudden movement had apparently attracted the attention of the other two men, who were now looking at him somewhat warily. Taking this opportunity, Iason addressed Riki:

"When did I release you?"

Seeming to understand what Iason was thinking, Riki turned his head to face him (though he remained in Katze's arms), and replied, "About a year ago. Katze said the decision to remove your memories was made because you were starting to act on plans to bring me back after my little 'breather'."

He was speaking more evenly now, though that jaded quality to his voice was still present. Surprisingly, Iason found that he had rather warmed up to him in this short period of time. There was just something about that straightforward defiance… It flew in the face of everything that Iason had learned as an elite, and as a result he found it irresistibly fascinating. Perhaps that was what had attracted him to this man in the first place.

And on the subject of defiance, and while he was analyzing everything he might as well consider this too, how exactly would he have gotten away with having a mongrel pet? And especially having relations with it?

He didn't think he would have openly opposed Jupiter, and the more he thought about it, the more easily he could imagine ways of working through the loopholes in Pet Law. In fact, there was a good chance he had managed to pull the whole thing off without publicly breaking any of Jupiter's commandments at all. But he had certainly flaunted Blondie custom, which may as well have been law, and done so very publicly.

Going back to the initial issue: Jupiter had ordered Raoul to remove his memories. The question of why was quite complicated, however. If Jupiter had directly ordered him to dispose of the mongrel, and he had refused, wouldn't she have done something about it right then, or soon after? Why let him keep the pet for three years, and then wait for a full year after _that_ before doing anything about it? Apparently it was triggered by him planning to bring Riki back, but… Iason simply found it difficult to believe that, had Jupiter said anything to him about it, he would have ignored or rebelled against her orders. Wouldn't they have at least tried to work out a compromise?

A sneaking suspicion began to form in his mind, that perhaps this _was_ the compromise. If he couldn't give Riki up, he would have to give up wanting him. He knew that if Jupiter ordered him to give up Katze he wouldn't be able to do it, but what if she had ordered him to give up his memories of Katze? Could he do that? There was a part of him that hesitated, that rejected it, but his coldly logical side argued that it was silly to desire to have a particular desire. And, in giving up Riki, hadn't he managed to form a surprisingly pleasant and rewarding relationship with Katze? If his memories of Katze were removed, what would he do then? Move on to Raoul? And of course his uptight Blondie friend would ensure that nothing _inappropriate_ happened between them, and then that would be the end of the problem. Perhaps that had been the plan all this time, but Iason calling Katze back had messed that up?

He was now rather concerned that he had violated the terms of some agreement with Jupiter, one that he obviously didn't remember, but would probably have been expected to be followed nonetheless. Was that why Raoul was so keen not to upset him and to grow closer to him? Was that why he had been so adamant about his unconditional support? Was that the real meaning behind his secret meetings with Katze?

He needed to talk to Raoul. He needed all the facts, and once he had the whole and complete truth he would be able to determine the proper course of action, whether he should go to Jupiter and directly discuss this, or play dumb and attempt to conceal this from her. But before he spoke to Raoul, he had three or four missing years to fill in.

"Riki," he said, addressing the mongrel by name for the first time. The man twitched a little, but seemed to feel secure enough with Katze to not react violently. "I want you to come back to Eos with us. I want to hear about everything that happened in those years. And Katze, I want to hear everything you know too. I will decide how to proceed from there."

* * *

A/N: OMG I am sooooo sorry! o_O That should not have taken so long. As someone who regularly peruses their favorites list, groaning miserably every time I see that no one has updated, I apologize sincerely for taking to long! :/ Thank you sososososososooooooo much to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! It really meant a lot to me to check my inbox and see that someone had enjoyed the story enough to do that! :3 That was my motivation to get this chapter done. There might be quite a few typos, so definitely drop me a message somehow and let me know if you catch one! I will try really hard to get the next chapter out in a more timely fashion; I'm trying to wrap things up so hopefully this will be my first completed story soon! :D Thanks again to my fellow fanfic readers and Ai no Kusabi lovers! ^_^ I'm just happy that you guys exist! 3

To my last few reviewers: thanks and sorry :P No Raoul/Katze in this chapter, but I'll keep your suggestion in mind for the next one! ;)

& I think I finally managed to reply to everyone I could PM to thank you for following/favoriting/reviewing! I hate to sound like a broken record, but even though it took me forever and half to send those, it really does mean a lot to know you guys liked the story! So thanks again and have a great day/month/year/life! (^3^)


End file.
